


My Hero

by sangster007



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Character Death, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Jaegers (Pacific Rim), Kaiju (Pacific Rim), Love/Hate, M/M, Minor Character Death, Psychological Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:28:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25686586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sangster007/pseuds/sangster007
Summary: Max is ready to die, and Charles doesn't want to lose anyone.
Relationships: Charles Leclerc/Max Verstappen, Lando Norris/Carlos Sainz Jr
Comments: 4
Kudos: 33





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [My Hero](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25689523) by [sangster007](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sangster007/pseuds/sangster007). 



> Hi guys ! It is a new story, and I want to write it as a short story, but I find it was worth a lot more space. Racing cars are very similar to mecha in my imagination. I put this story in the context of Pacific Rim.There is some death and some pain. I hope you enjoy this piece.

Why do we fall in love in the last days?

Death grips us by the throat, and every day we pray for tomorrow. Survival is the only proposition of this age.

But I still love you, you are like a candle on a long winter's night, the only warmth on Noah's ark.

You gave me courage, not afraid of life and death.

You have made me feel a little nostalgic for life and still feel a love for the world without me.

So, my dear, this is what I would give my life for, for your future. 

1 

He arrived at the base on a stormy day.

He always remembered the scene of that day. The climate was sticky, the sea breeze salty, and the air around him clung to his bare skin like a good waterproof raincoat. Sweat soaked through his headband and thick bomber jackets, he felt exasperated by the fact that he had lost a battle against the subtropical climate. 

The helicopter thundered down on the tarmac. The men at the base kept their eyes fixed on their work, a few men standing sporadically in front of the base gate, hardly a sign that they were a procession to greet the visitors. The strong wind from the propeller blew against his lapels, and he felt as if he were a bloated balloon ready to float into the sky. 

The ground control helicopter was in the right position. He came down with his meager luggage, looked around, and felt that he had lost his soul at the bottom of the Caribbean Sea. He was used to enduring his fear and anger in an environment filled with despair, and he was boiling steel that landed on a cloud. It bothered him that the Hong Kong base looked too peaceful. Wouldn't such peace erode the resolve of the people here to fight? He dared not admit that he had been far from all comfort and beauty for so long that he could not enjoy it comfortably enough. 

The noise of the helicopter disturbed him. Before he could take a few steps, Gasly ran up to him and hugged him. 

"Charles," Gasly whispered in his ear in French, hugging him tightly. His eyes were almost instantly wet by the familiar tone, and he missed everything damn about home. "Charles, I miss you so much. I'm so sorry about Jules and your father." 

The mention of Jules and his father dimmed the light in his eyes.A green jewel turned dusty. It was an inevitable pain, and he could not get under the glass and pretend that nothing bad had happened. Jules and his father had been a refuge for his wandering soul, and he subconsciously sought refuge after his injury. Now that he had lost them, he had to learn to accept naked what fate had given him. He had an extraordinary strong will, but it still repeatedly beat his heart and made him cry softly in the night. He still couldn't make it as hard as the mecha. 

He put up his hand and patted Gasly on the shoulder, pretending to be the more relieved one. Gasly let go of him and retreated a comfortable distance. Charles lowered his eyes in embarrassment, trying to hide his red eyes. Fortunately, the light rain in the sky didn't make his wet eyelashes suspicious. 

"A new beginning." Charles gave a charming smile. He didn't have to be brave about Gasly, because he could see the difference between his smile and his old one. They grew up together, went to the Jaeger Academy together, trained together. Those eyes, which looked as pure as choir children's eyes, had lost the happiness that could not be extinguished by any difficulties, and the only thing left was the exhaustion and helplessness after being hurt by life for countless times.

A thousand words of comfort surged to his lips, and at last turned into a gentle sigh, Gasly bent his head and rubbed his thumb against his lips, feeling for the first time the weakness of the words. They're all the same people, and it's unlikely Charles's story won't be part of his destiny.If their circumstances were reversed today,Gasly wouldn't want to listen to any of that bullshit.

"Lima has fallen, has it?" 

Gasly stepped aside so Charles could see who was speaking. Max stood two or three feet from them with his arms folded, a defensive gesture Charles knew he was making. It took him some time to catch on to what he was saying over the loud noise. He nodded simply. 

He knew Max, and they had had a tit-for-tat relationship since Jaeger Academy, perhaps because of their unhealthy rivalry. In a few false dreams, he and Max also had the possibility of becoming friends. But in reality, they are just trying to provoke each other, hoping to see each other's feet jump. Now he doesn't have the strength to deal with a bad relationship, so he does his best to keep his animosity toward his erstwhile rival in check. 

"So you just ran away? Leave your mecha and your partner?" 

Charles was infuriated in an instant. On one second he certainly did not think that his tired soul and body can also carry such a violent emotional wave. 'You're not in a position to say that! Ignoring Gasly's attempts to stop him, he grabbed Max by the collar. 

Gasly tried to pull Charles away, and a very young boy apparently took Max's side and tried to free Max's clothes from Charles's hands. Several young boys came up in a circle to separate them from the others. 

"Don't do that. Fighting in the base is punishable." "Growled one of the boys. 

Charles recognized him as Alex, a fellow student at Jaeger Academy. He gave a contemptuous laugh. "So what? It was your people who insisted on my coming. If they want to punish me, come. The worst they can do is to kick me out of here." 

"You are a deserter." Max stared at him, eyes as fierce as a hunting cheetah, lips pursed as if he had been wronged. 

"Don't make me hit you." Charles leans over him, nose to nose, hissing threateningly. 

"Come on." Max burst into laughter. "I'd love to see how much you've improved," he said. Remember crying secretly in the locker room after I knocked you down?" 

"You fucking --" Charles swore for a few seconds that he really wanted to throw his fist, but one of the other boys held Max down and pushed him back hard. "Enough Max, why are you acting like a jerk when he shows up?" 

The atmosphere is deadlocked. Max froze in place for a moment. "I --" 

Charles snarled, "Because he's always been an asshole!" Gradually Max's eyebrows came together again. He tried to say something, but Charles interrupted again. Charles smiled suddenly with relief and shrugged his shoulders, feeling as sad and desperate as a child who had been hurt and was asked to forgive by everyone. "I'm happy for you, Max, though I hate you at the same time. You haven't encountered anything that has changed you, have you? You're lucky."

He bumped against his shoulder and dashed through the crowd. 

*

Charles didn't know where to go. 

The base was like an island, with vast seas all around. In the past, he felt that the base was his home, and the mecha and his companions were his family. He would fight to the death to defend his home, to protect his loved ones, and to defend them against the invading kaijus. But now he felt exiled, and he did not even know where to go. 

Finally he chose to sit down behind a pile of goods. And it's amazing that Gasly found him. 

"There are surveillance cameras in every corner of the base." He shrugged and said it wasn't a big deal. Charles couldn't laugh. 

"... Max wants to apologize." Gasly hesitated, wondering if it was appropriate to mention Max under the circumstances. 

"Even if he apologizes, that doesn't cover up the fact that he's an asshole." Charles replied with a straight face. He was no Virgin, and it was not easy to forgive a man who had spoken ill of him. 

"Yes, he was a childish rascal. He didn't know anything, but now of course he does, and I've told him what happened. Don't be so quick to contradict me, Charles. I know you don't want sympathy or pity. But others should know the truth, which will avoid a lot of contradictions and misunderstandings. Charles, he's not a bad guy. He didn't mean what he said to you. A lot of your fights, I mean the ones you had back in academy, made me feel like... It feels like you're just trying to get each other's attention. It's the same today. What Max said was really outrageous, but he deserves an opportunity to apologize, whether you forgive him or not, right?" 

Charles was still angry, so he simply replied, "No." 

Gasly choked up. They sat holding the knees for a long time, until the sky was turning a deep purple, the sun was fading away from the sea at the far end, and the seagulls were chasing them, silhouelled black in the darkness. 

"The sea here is beautiful." Charles's voice was so light that it could be blown away by a gust of wind. 

"It's boring after a long time. But every day I look at this picture and I thank God, even the monsters, that they did not attack me today, and that they allowed me to see such a beautiful scene." 

"Charles," Gasly turned to look at him, "you'll get used to it. Let go and accept that, like you said, it's time for a new beginning." 

"I'm working on it." Charles looked back at him. Gasly found that he was much more mature than when they had parted, and that it had been only four years. He could see exhaustion and heartbreak in his eyes. Perhaps unwilling to see his friend feel sorry for him, Charles heaved a sigh, patted their huddled knees, and got up. "Come on," he said, "it's time to eat, sleep, and start a new life." 

"Really? 

Charles looked out into the distance. The night wind stretched its shape along the swell of the waves. On some other sea in the world lay all that he had loved, and he hated it. He did not want to bury himself in the depths of the sea. He wanted to live, to clean up the monsters one by one, to make up for the fact that he had not been able to save his family. 

"Really."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you guys enjoy this chapter:)

  
2 

He woke up again from a nightmare.

It was his third day at the base. He lived in a dormitory that had apparently been used before, and the metallic walls were marked with cuts and carved with Chinese characters he did not recognize. He lay motionless, the incandescent lamp hanging cold above his head, stabbing him to tears. 

Tears trickled down his cheeks on the pillow, and he could smell the slight damp without trying. He drifted away into heaven in the blinding light. And God murmured a few words over his head. He twined his fingers together, praying all the time, but he was aware of the grief that was coming like a wave that he could not resist. 

Finally he leaned over the bed and cried. 

When he appeared at the dinner table the next day, almost everyone could see his red and swollen eyes. Charles didn't care about their eyes and sat down as if nothing had happened. Breakfast was synthetic rye bread with a limited supply of coffee. The coffee tasted like overnight water used for washing bowls, the bread was dry like some sort of textile, but Charles took it all away. The emaciated boy sitting across from him looked at him with an expression of forbearance. After some hesitation, he came over and took a small jar of jam out of his trouser pocket and put it in front of him. 

Charles gave him a friendly smile. "Thank you." 

He moved to sit next to him: "Hong Kong went into a state of war after the fall of Lima Base a few months ago, and the base was rather short of supplies." The boy pressed shyly to his ear. "Max and I got this off the black market."

Charles nodded and continued eating in silence. 

The boy was soon called away. Gasly took a spoonful of jam from his jar. Charles asked him, "He's partnered with Max?" 

Gasly shook his head. "Do you say Lando? His partner died in the last monster invasion. After that he had no way of communicating with the Jaeger. He is now the pilot of the transport plane." 

Charles glanced at the back of Lando's departure and smiled at Gasly. "Maybe you still need a pilot at your base?" he asked. 

"No." Gasly gave him a no-no look. "They've chosen a partner for you." 

"Who?" Charles frowned slightly. He doesn't like to be set up, but sometimes it's a soldier's job to obey. 

"Marshal made the decision." 

"I ask who was my partner?" 

Gasly looked at him awkwardly. "Honestly, mate, I really don't want to be the one to tell you the news." 

"But now you have to." Charles blinked his green eyes and Gasly surrendered. "Max. That's what you think." 

Charles's casual smile froze on the corner of his mouth. As soon as he arrived at the base, he had a big argument with Max, and although Max had apologized to him, he didn't think it would soften everything. He began to bite his nails unconsciously, a bad little habit when he was anxious. He told himself to be mature and not to confuse Max as a jerk with Max as an extremely tough driver. But he couldn't. He just has a grudge. 

But when he stood under the war clock and saw the Jaeger, he knew he could not refuse. The huge Jaeger stood opposite him, as if a silent god were calling to him. He knew he was born this way, and the desire for battle and honor was engraved in his bones. 

"Equator Lion , fourth generation. Dual turbine nuclear power drive, Linux modular processor, CCLO neuron energy core. The fighting style is very similar to the one ‘Solar Prophet’ you used to drive in Lima." 

Charles took a break from his obsession with behemoths and turned to Max. The blond boy gave him a stiff smile. 'Is that your invitation to me? 

Max shrugged nonreassuringly. "It's marshal's plan." 

Charles shook his head. "He looked down on me. I don't want to be co-pilot." 

"No!" Max cut him off in a hurry. "We can forget about priorities. We'll just drive it together." Max blushed under Charles's tentative gaze. "I don't want to say anything more. Tonight they're going to do a link test for you and me, and you'll be in my head." 

It sounded a bit odd, but it made Charles smile. 

* * *

Max had confidence in his connection with Charles, but things turned out to be more than he expected. 

A cold mechanical girl's voice sounded in the cabin. Max closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and sank into the stream of memories that flashed faster than ever. 

He saw the young Charles, his summers under the clear blue skies of the Mediterranean, his memories of the snows of the Pyrenees, and he would have smiled at the images had it not been for the intense pressure of the brain pulses that kept him from making any expression. Charles's childhood was a colorful one, full of laughter and love, a life he would envy at any time. The next moment, however, the bubble of happiness was torn apart by invading monsters. The weather kept the sky leaden, like the boy's hardened heart. He looked out at his distant home and clung to his family in the crowded ark of escape. Later, when he vowed to go to Jaeger Academy, Max was pleasantly surprised to find that he had played such a big part in Charles' life. He could even feel the emotion of love and Scunner when Charles remembered him. It made him feel as if he had been lightly whipped in the heart. 

The link was complete. Their bodies recoiled from the memory of the brain pulse.

"Right hemisphere calibrated," was about to be finished, a triumphant smile blossoming on Max’s lips, "Left hemisphere calibrated." 

Suddenly he noticed Charles standing there like a lost puppet, his eyes staring straight ahead. "He's started chasing the rabbit!" the engineer shouted in his communicator. 

Max reached out to him, trying to reclaim his consciousness. "Charles, don't get stuck in a memories. Stay with me, stay in the now, don't engage in a memory.Charles? Charles!" 

Charles didn't respond. 

  
  
_High winds, torrential rain, thunder and lightning. Don't expect monsters to pick a good day to attack. The war clock stopped at the moment the alarm sounded, just a few weeks after the last monster attack._

_As they fell into the sea, Charles heard Julio say "Here we come" softly in the communicator. This immediately made Charles laugh. Julio always seemed to know how to relieve the burning sensation in his stomach caused by tension. He steadied himself and slowly adjusted himself into the preparation for the fight._

_"One Knifehead, and one Scunner." Charles looked around warily._

_"Two. A bit of trouble." Jules whistled softly._

_Scunner had clearly noticed them, dived under the water, and crept silently towards them. Charles raised his hand and ejected the plasma cannon hidden in his left arm, aiming it at the tip of the Knifehead still in view. When the Knifehead was knocked down by the cannon fire, the Scunner jumped out of the sea and went straight for the Solar Prophet._

_The wrist blade opened and swung toward the Scunner, but too late, and the forelimb of the Scunner tore off the Sun Prophet's right arm and nearly tore it off. Its right arm was almost useless, and with hate, Charles raised his left hand and shot it toward the neck of Scunner. Scunner’s neck was nearly pierced under heavy fire. The huge monster swayed on the spot and crashed to the ground. The fight with Scunner had just ended when Knifehead's head approached from behind and Sun Prophet tried to turn around but was first impaled on his left arm._

_The weapons system was completely disabled. Jules forced Charles into an escape pod over Charles' objections._

_The roar of a nuclear reactor explosion, combined with the roar of a monster piercing the sky, made his ears tingle. Huddled in the escape pod, he could not hear himself crying loudly. He closed his eyes tightly but couldn't stop the tears from gushing._

_In his trance, he heard someone calling him:_

"Charles? Charles! It's just a memory. It's all over. Wake up!" 

* * *

  
  
"Neural bridge exercise invalid." 

Charles was still screaming the moment he regained consciousness. Max hugged his limp body and kept reassuring him, "It's okay, it's okay." 

Charles was whispering something, and Max leaned in to listen. It was an Old Testament text -- 

"You will be strong and have no fear.. You will forget your misery, is also remembered as the past water. The days of your earth shall be brighter than the noon, and though it is dark, it is like the morning." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Equatorial Lion: I made it up  
> Solar Prophet: The original Jaeger deployed at Lima Base.  
> chase rabbit: The dangerous act of getting lost in a pulse-triggered memory . The metaphor comes from Alice in Wonderland  
> Knifehead&Scunner: Kaiju.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have used machine translation, so please forgive me for some inconsistencies and grammar mistakes.

Max took Charles back to his room.

Charles thanked him politely at the door of the room. Max hated his flawless perfection. He'd rather he yelled at him so that at least he could follow his anger to the bottom of his heart. Max put his hand against the door at the last moment. Charles resigned him and stood looking at him. It gave Max the illusion that he was the most precious person he had.

"Are you all right?”

"Ah," Charles cocked his head. "Listen, Max, it's generous of you to send me here like you're sending a girl home after a date. Don't be such a jerk."

"I was just worried about you." "Max complained, letting his concern slip out of his mouth.

"I don't need your attention." Charles whistled frivolously, leaning casually against the doorframe, his eyes shining carelessly. "I need nicotine, or whiskey, or whatever, to make the night seem less long."

Max said nothing.

Charles ignored his depression and continued to pretend he was an asshole. "Maybe you can get me some?"

"It's all contraband." Max was clearly unhappy.

"Isn't the black market where contraband is sold? And you're a regular visitor." There was a sneer at the end.

Max was silent again.

Charles saw his gloomy expression and began to wonder if he had been too mean. He was worried that he might have hurt Max's heart, even though he had ever said something bad to Max, but never had he felt so guilty. After all, Max seemed to genuinely care about him.

"I won't give you cigarettes or alcohol. You shouldn't touch those things." Max's voice was vague and muddy, like a minstrel's song on the night wind. "But if -- you probably don't need -- if you want someone near you, you can come to me."

Charles froze for a second, surprised and bewildered by Max's tenderness. No sooner had he pulled out a mocking smile than the young man in front of him pulled him into his arms. Charles did not expect such a hot and humid embrace to await him. Max breathed out gently, relaxing as if he had completed an old wish. He could feel the heat coming from his body, and the smell of laundry detergent mixed with sweat steaming like mist over his body. The skin on his side of the face could tell whether Max’s breath was light or heavy. Charles's withered soul was almost frightened by the breath of life.

Max soon let go. But it felt so strong that in Charles's world, time was stretched out for a very, very long time. He watched dully as Max said good night to himself, as he walked across the room, as he opened and closed the door. Their timeline seems to be out of place. Charles didn't wake up until the sound of Max closing the door. The events of the past few minutes billowed in his mind like the sea on a typhoon day. He felt a sudden panic, and the inexplicable gray mood seized him and drove him to the door and knocked on Max's door. He did not dare to think, as if he was afraid that in the time of thinking he would again miss some opportunity. He knocked eagerly, like a wanderer seeking a light in a storm.

The door soon opened. Max was puzzled, but he knew that Charles wasn't trying to make up for the good night he hadn't said, so he waited for Charles to say it. But Charles? He could not say a word. Too many thoughts were running through his mind at the same time, and he let them go like water without a trace. In the end, all that remained was: "Can you hold me again?"

He spent the evening indulging in Max's warm embrace. First they held each other for a long time in the doorway, Charles huddled tightly in Max's arms, to be exact. The soldiers and pilots who had returned from night training began to trickle into the corridor. Somewhat embarrassed, Max nudged Charles to signal that it was time to finish. Charles just held him closer. So he had to take him into his room, where two six-foot young men crowded into a camp bed. Charles is content with this, because he can be infinitely close to him.

He really missed the embrace, the warmth of intimacy that made him feel that he was still worthy of love. Science shows that a person needs at least four hugs a day, and Charles was pathologically making up for what he's missing.

Max's temperature seemed to be above average, at least above Charles’s own. The experience of going to Anchorage to build the anti-Monster wall after Lima Base had fallen almost burned him out. He still remembered the dead silence, as he stood on his perch, the snow muffling all sounds, as if the whole world had closed its doors to him. The cold air drilled into his limbs and carved cold on his bones. He thought he was used to cold. But once he had a choice, he would not hesitate to chase warmth.

The next day he woke up, unconsciously moving. Disturbed by his movements, Max looked down at him sleepily. Max's hair was messy and he had a short bluish stubble on his face, but Charles thought it's cute, too cute.

"My god, my hands are killing me."

At this, Charles sat up and saved Max's arm. Max sat up too, slowly leaning against the wall. "Ah, my waist and shoulders are sore."

They sat cross-legged on the bed, Max hanging his head and stretching his upper limbs uncomfortably, apparently still in standby mode. Charles smiled at him. "Thank you for letting me stay." After some thought, he added, "I'm sorry to bother you." It was a polite thing to say, and he wasn't sorry.

"Nothing." Max grunted, as if he were taking a big gulp of cream in his mouth. "... Did you have nightmare?"

“What?” Max's lingua franca was clear, and Charles just couldn't believe why he's still asking this question.

"I said, did you have a nightmare?" Max stopped, straightened his back, and looked at him solemnly.

"No. In fact, I had a wonderful dream." Charles squinted and smiled. He dreamed that when he was fourteen years old, he, his father, his brothers and Jules were on a vacation in a small town, taking a boat on a lake. In the distance, surrounded by mountains, misty and green, the lake was like a polished mirror reflecting the blue sky. Jules and his father shared a small canoe. The bow of the canoe was bent like the moon, and there were some patterns he couldn't tell. He watched them from a distance with folded arms, worried about the strength of the canoe. Jules waved to him and his father smiled. He assured Max with his answer, "Yes, it was a great dream."

"But you were crying last night." Max looked at him, his eyes lit up with earnestness. Charles could see no flaw. He thought Max was joking.

"Impossible."

Max sighed. "Why should I lie to you? You were crying quietly, but,"

But what? The two were silent in unison. A moment later Charles picked up his coat and shoes, then readied to leave.

"Why don't you ask Pierre?" Max asked before he left. No sooner had he said that than he felt like slapping himself. It was as if he were trying to push him away.

"I'll think about it." Charles's eyes flickered back to the apathy of the day before. Max quickly explained, "No, I mean I'd love for you to come to me, but I don't know why you chose me." Damn it, whatever. He blushed at his rash statement, which made him look like a boy eager to pick up on an affair.

Charles smiled, a sweet but empty smile. "It was just an accident."

Turns out it wasn't an accident.

Max ignored him all day. When he showed up at the restaurant, Max threw down his plate with a cold face and walked away, leaving behind confused Lando and Gasly. Max also didn't say a word to him during combat training, when they were assigned to a group (which was obvious). Gasly asked him worriedly, "Did you fight again?"

Charles was not going to tell him the truth: "Always."

In the evening, Charles knocked on Max's door.

Max seemed to have anticipated his visit. He opened the door a crack warily, and asked him in an incongrous tone, "What’s up?"

"I need tobacco and whisky, and vodka will do."

Max looked even more impatient. "What's wrong with you?"

"There's nothing wrong with me," Charles declared with rigor. "They say you can get these things."

'Who said that?

"Your little friend, Lando Norris."

Max's patience ran out. Frowning, he threw the door wide open, looking as if he was going to lecture Charles. "Listen, Charles, I told you I'm not going to give you those fucking things..."

"And what have you got for me?" Charles interrupts him slightly. "It's still a hug, okay?"

Max wry smile. "You want a hug not just a hug, you want my bed."

He forgave him. Or he wasn't really mad at him. Charles smiles unconsciously, and Max's indulgence reminded him of his father. This familiarity was enough to remind him painfully that he had no more wherewithal to be capricious. No matter how he searched for illusory alternatives, he was no longer loved.

He had read Max's life memory. He knew that Max was being good and bad to him now because of the combination of jealousy and adorable when Max was younger.

But the focus and infatuation of youth often didn't last.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BGM is safe and sound. When I wrote it, it played in a loop, imagining the episode in the memory of Lando in this chapter.

The late night escape plan for Max and Lando had been smooth. They took a checklist of what everyone needed and crawled northwest through the ventilation ducts of the base dormitory. Almost everyone turned a blind eye to the noise from the ceiling, and the other jaegers would cover for them as hard as they could during the raids of the officers, so that they could get their coffee, butter and pre-war fashion magazines the next morning. What Max and Lando needed to do was simply sneak out of the base and back as quietly as possible. But this time they ran into some trouble.

They stood under the entrance to the ventilation ducts and stared at Charles. Charles, neatly dressed in his overalls and military boots, did not look like he was passing by. It was, after all, two o 'clock at night, and the base was dead silent.

Charles gave them his characteristic smile. Max thought come on. He knew what Charles was like. He was definitely not an innocent boy like his smile, but everyone would fail in the face of such a smile. And Charles knew this for sure, and he used it as a weapon to get others to compromise and surrender.

Unsurprisingly, they let him come with them. Max claimed it was because it was time for the sentinels to change guard and they didn't have time to tangle with Charles more. He spoke stiffly like a child who didn't want to lose. Charles couldn't help smiling.

The moment he climbed out of the ventilation ducts, the world seemed to come to life. Even his pores were straining to feel the cool, wet air, and the sound of waves and wind blowing through the mangroves was as clear to his senses as static electricity. Charles suddenly fell in love with the thick, dark night. In his mind, though, darkness brought nightmares and gut-wrenching fear. Darkness was the misfortune he had not witnessed when he had closed his eyes. It was the permanently sealed coffin in the grave, the dark rush under the cold waters of Lima. But now he was in love with the dark, and it brought him peace and tranquillity, and made him forget time and circumstances for a moment, and lose himself completely in the world he knew with his skin and breath.

Suddenly someone grabbed his hand. He looked a little overwhelmed by the interruption. Max clutched his hand, the hot palm covering the back of his hand, and Charles thought it's time to cut his nails. "What the hell? Come on." Then he took Charles and Lando and ran. Charles could clearly hear his own breathing and frantic heart beating. He wondered if it was going to be too loud, and felt a sense of guilt that he might have broken the quiet night. But in fact they left quite quietly, and the only thing the marshal could see, by chance, was three figures scurrying past under the base fence.

They made their way through the residential area to the underground market, where Charles found it was a different world. He was a little surprised to see so much enthusiasm for life that he could not see depression on any face amid the crowd. At the moment, the area seemed to have erected a shield to keep out the atmosphere of war, kaijus and doomsday, and became an isolated utopia. The mother was excitedly bargaining for a piece of artificial meat and the peddler, and the child broke free from her hand and ran merrily about among the crowd; Roadside stalls on the people sitting together, raised the hands of the wine glass, mouth shouting something, the appearance of drunk; The paper goods vendor stood at a red light in the corner, smoking a rolled-up, scrawled cigarette. Max gave his bag to Lando and jostled his way to a bookseller.

Charles's eye was drawn to an old woman selling flowers. He couldn't figure out why she was here. Did she earn her living by selling flowers? But look around, would anyone buy her flowers? The roses and lilies of midnight hung limp and drooping, as if to show what was behind all the gaiety and revelry -- that it was, after all, withered and dying, and could not escape.

Charles walked up to her, and the old woman smiled at him, whispering in a language he didn't understand. He looked back at the pleading look of Lando, who had followed him closely to prevent them from getting away. "Those flowers will not survive long," murmured Lando. But he pulled a jar from the huge backpack Max had just given him and handed it to the old man. Charles's eye was drawn to the jar of blue liquid wrapped in something. He took the flower from the old woman and asked a little eagerly, "What's that?"

"A kaiju's organ."

Charles felt suffocated. 'How dare you?

"What's the big deal," shrugged contentedly. "Do you think there are a few such deals? Even marshal trade for supplies and ammunition."

"Well," Charles wondered, "what do they do with that stuff?"

"As far as I'm concerned, this stuff is garbage, more disgusting than a drunk man's vomit. But someone will always find a use for it, someone will always need it, and there will always be merchants who can make war money out of it. I don't care." Lando ducked his head and fiddled with the contents of his bag, then suddenly tittered. "Oh. This is the one Carlos and I killed, Yamarashi, Level three."

Carlos. Although the base tried not to mention the dead, he heard the name. Carlos was a partner of Lando's, who died in the war a year ago.

"That's it." Lando looked up in his eyes. He didn't know whether it was an illusion or the effect of the light. Lando’s eyes were red."It caused us a lot of trouble." Lando closed his eyes and took a deep breath, as if grasping a memory buried deep in his heart. "It broke the bulkhead from the side in the scuffle and I was swept away by its tentacles."

"I fell in the water and could hardly breathe in the pain. But I was awake, and I saw Carlos cut his throat, and then I passed out."

"The next time I woke up I was in the medical wing. I complained that he must have kept me in the water too long, which is why I was so cold. He said it was only because I had lost so much blood that I felt cold. I kind of forgot. Maybe I wasn't that cold. I just scared him. I was shaking under the covers and then Carlos took off his coat and put it over me, and I was still shaking."

"Then he hugged me. I'm really happy that I... I loved him then, but I didn't want to admit it to him. I kept complaining until he kissed me."

Charles heard this, for the companion's romantic story quietly red ears. And Lando just smiled sadly, "I couldn't help loving him. Jaeger partners just fall in love easily. We share our lives, know each other's histories, know how each other thinks, and feel each other's emotions. It's hard not to fall in love under these circumstances."

Charles felt sorry for him. He, too, had a loss of love, though not the love that came from Lando and his partner.

"But I didn't admit it.I didn't admit it," Said Lando, suddenly covering his eyes with his arm. “ I love him. I do love him. I sat on the beach with him in my arms, and all I saw were mecha and dead kaiju. I told him it was all right, that you would be safe and sound, and that help was coming. Then he asked me, ‘Will you miss me?’ And I didn't want to answer. I said I would see you every day until your face bored me. Then he said, say it, say you're going to miss me."

"I should have. I should have.I miss him all the time. Indeed, I miss him every moment."

His grief was so overwhelming that Charles could hardly bear it. He wanted to get away, away from this sad past, as if he were trying to escape from his own pain. But he stood in silence, feeling remorse and sorrow in Lando. The tragedy of others was like a slap in the face, telling him that he was not the only victim. Bad luck was fair to all; in war they were perpetual losers. Did death carry them with it? It wasn't. Death was the cruelest thing for the dead, robbing them of all possibilities, robbing them of their future, fixing their voices and smiles in a certain moment, more poisonous than the eyes of Medusa. Love was. Love bore them sorrows, and hung a sword over their hearts. Love gave them courage and conviction, and at the same time demanded its reward. Love made them hotch, always on the watch for loss. But nobody would have thought of that. Because love was so happy and so addictive, regardless of anything else.

And Lando calmed down quickly. He glanced at Max in the distance, who was still arguing with the bookseller. And he said to Charles, "I don't know what you think of my story. But I do know that Max loved you. It may still be so, that he did not see it for himself, and I cannot say with certainty."

"But some things are better fixed before they happen. Either say no or don't let him lose you."

Charles turned to Max and couldn't take his eyes off him for a long time. Love? Max and his? He had never had the slightest idea about it. In this era, life and death as fast as lightning, love time was also compressed, compressed, compressed again. There was not enough time to bring two honest hearts together, even apart from cautious temptations, ambiguity, long, self-consciously hopeless adoration, awkward misunderstandings and unexpected incidents. Charles sighed softly. How would they love each other in the doomsday?

Max finally ended the endless bargaining and came up to them with a stack of magazines. Charles frowned at the gaudy aesthetic of the magazine cover in his hand. Max raised his hands to show his innocence. "That's what Alex and Gasly want."

Charles was sure he's cheating. Pierre didn't read these magazines. Suddenly a shrill melody loomed above the noise. Max and Lando were somber amid the sudden stampede of people around them. Charles wondered what was wrong. He was about to ask. Max and Lando had thrown away everything they had and rushed out.

He understood at once. Hong Kong was attacked.

**Author's Note:**

> Jeager Academy:it trains people to drive jeager.  
> Lima: Lima Base,in Peru.


End file.
